The Hunted
by JasperRosalieWhitlock
Summary: When Rosalie Hale sees something she shouldn't, she becomes a witness in some serious trouble. Her only hope is to trust Jasper Whitlock, a wild, reckless cop with something to prove. Together, their only option is to run.
1. Notes

Hey Twilight Fans.

Firstly I wanted to put this out there. This story, it's plot that I'm doing is originally not mine. The only thing I've done was different paring and I changed a few minor things and added different characters to it. I know that I had Alice killed off of this and I'm sorry. This is not a Alice Bashing whatsoeve. In fact I love her and she's one of the characters that I really like, but not with Jasper though, lol. But in all seriousness though, I still love all of the Twilight Saga and it's Characters pairings including Emmett/Rosalie, Jasper/Alice pairing. Stephenie Meyer done incredible work on the Twilight Saga, the plot, the characters, character's backgrounds, ect.

Secondly I wanted to say is, since reading all the books and seeing all the movies of the Twilight Saga, I've always loved Rosalie Hale and Jasper Whitlock Hale. Well I love all of them actually, lol, but mainly Rosalie Hale and Jasper Whitlock Hale, they're my favorite Characters and I think they would've been a great couple actually. I know they play twins for a cover and that's all, they're not really twins. But I do understand that Rosalie/Jasper pairing might be a little weird since they play twins, but like I said, it's a cover, they're not really, so it's not really weird, lol, it just my opinion. I like to mess and play around with different characters and everything.

Anyways I'm babbling, lol. I'm still working on some stories but they're my own. I have some ideas about a few characters in mind but still trying to work through some kinks and what to put and how, what characters I want to use, ect. I'm not going to say when I'm going to put them up because I'm still at the very beginning stage. But I will at least try put at least three chapters if not two at least before this year is up.

Thank you for your patience and understanding.


	2. Chapter One: Mistake

**Chapter One**

 **Mistake**

Life was good, especially for Rosalie Hale.

The bright lights of the trendy club's interior flashed and spun, making her dizzy as she ground her hips with the beat. The shots she had done at the bar were making her head spin delightfully, and she was hoping to keep her buzz for awhile. The guy she was dancing with pulled her ass closer, grinding himself against her in time with the bass.

"I don't think so," she giggled, touching his cheek. The song ended, and she quickly turned around.

"Hey, what the—"

"Thanks for the drink!" she called over her shoulder, smirking to herself. She was a tease, and she knew it. But being a tease got her into all of Seattle's trendiest clubs and bars, which she was nowhere near ready to give up. While the rest of her friends were graduating school and settling down to get married and have children with their college sweethearts, Rosalie was the exact opposite. She had graduated early, dumped her longtime boyfriend Alistair, and was canceling all of her after-graduation plans to let her parents fund a trip to travel to Europe with her friend Alice. She had spent all summer and most of the fall partying it up in downtown Seattle, and she had no intentions of stopping. Normal didn't suit her; it never had.

She leaned back against the bar, scanning the crowd for Alice. She was sure her outgoing, obnoxious, pixie of a best friend was somewhere in the crowd, doing too much talking and too much flirting.

"Can I buy you a drink?" a voice asked.

Rosalie turned around, raising an eyebrow. She was greeted by a tall man with long blonde hair slick back into a ponytail. His skin was pale white and creamy, and his face has the five o'clock shadow going on. "Normally, the bartender doesn't have to 'buy' anything. He can just give it away," she replied, turning back around.

He cleared his throat. "Well, uh…in that case…a dirty martini for the lady," he said.

Rosalie smiled coyly, turning back around to lean on the bar. She gave him her best sex-kitten stare as he pushed the tall glass towards her.

"What makes you think I'd drink a dirty martini?" she flirted.

He smiled at her, exposing his white teeth. She leaned farther forward, letting him catch a peek down the plunging neckline of her black dress.

"You seem like a dirty girl," he flirted back, pushing the drink until it was directly in front of her.

Rosalie gave him her best smile, accepting the beverage. "It's one of my favorites, actually," she admitted, taking a sip.

He gave her another smile, and she was about to flirt back, when she heard the voice of her friend Alice cut through the crowd.

"Rose! Rose!"

"Where have you been?" Rosalie asked as her friend hurried up to her, teetering on her high heels and yanking her too-short dress down.

"You would not believe the hottie I just met," she squealed, grasping her friend's arm.

Rosalie rolled her eyes. Every guy Pixie met was 'the hottest guy ever,' so she barely paid any attention.

"Do you want to go out into the parking lot with us?" she asked, giving Rosalie a pointed look.

Rosalie balked, looking at the well dressed but very sketchy looking short dark brown hair that was slicked back guy who was approaching them.

"That's him," Alice whispered. "He's gorgeous."

"Demetri!" the bartender behind her shouted out.

The slicked back brown hair man Alice was drooling over nodded at him, and Rosalie raised her eyebrows.

"Hmm…who knew the two hot guys were friends?" Alice half whispered, half giggled. She reeked of tequila; she was probably already three sheets to the wind, but that was typical for her on a Saturday night. Drink first, think later.

"You in?" the slicked back brown hair guy asked. He looked at Rosalie, his eyes scanning her up and down. She shivered under his slightly creepy gaze, shuddering. He was good looking, no doubt; however, there was something about his slicked back brown hair and dark eyes that made the hairs on her arms stand up.

"Where are you going now?" Rosalie asked Alice. Her friend was always doing this–disappearing with guys she just met while drunker than a skunk. It was always up to Rosalie to rescue her, and it was getting old.

"I'm just going to the parking lot. He said he has some blow to share with us. Come on, are you in or are youin?"

"I don't know…" Rosalie said slowly. She didn't do drugs; she never had. Alcohol was usually enough for her to have a good time, and she usually didn't even need a lot of that.

"Come on. Just a bump." Alice winked at her.

Before Rosalie could protest, Alice followed the hot Slicked back brown hair guy and the sexy, Long blonde hair with a ponytail bartender out a side door of the loud club, pulling Rosalie with her. Shivering, she rubbed her hands on her bare arms in the cool, dark alley where they now stood.

"I'm James, by the way," he said to Rosalie.

She smiled, nervous butterflies settling in her stomach. Something didn't feel right…

"Well, we have the ladies here. Do you have the hookup or not, Demetri?"

The slick looking brown hair man grinned, nodding. He walked up to a pair of men hanging out closer towards the street and began talking to them. They looked shady, so Rosalie looked away and pretended she couldn't see them.

"I thought he already had the stuff? This is such fucking bullshit; I'm already fucking freezing," Alice whined.

Rosalie rolled her eyes at her pixie friend, looking over at the men Demetri was talking to. Suddenly, there was some shouting, and even a few pushes. James's eyes went wide, and there was a flash of something in the small beam of light coming from the nearby streetlamp. More shouts echoed in the alley, and suddenly, someone screamed. Demetri moved quickly, his arm connecting with the side of the second man. He doubled over, falling to the ground in a heap next to his friend.

"Holy shit," Rosalie gasped, seeing the flash of what Demetri held in his hand. It was a knife.

"Oh my fucking god!" Alice screeched, and her voice got Demetri's attention.

"Demetri! What are you thinking? They're dead!" James exclaimed, kneeling beside them. He stared down at the lifeless, bleeding bodies, his dark eyes panicked. "You killed them! What are we going to do?"

"Nothing," Demetri sneered, wiping the handle of the blade on his shirt. He tossed it up onto the roof of the next building, and Rosalie felt her heart begin to race. Demetri didn't even look the least bit sad that he had just committed murder.

"We have to go.Now,"she whispered, grabbing Alice's arm. As they began to move, Demetri looked up.

"Where do you think you're going?" he shouted. "Not so fast!"

"Alice, run!" Rosalie gasped, pushing her friend towards the side door. They yanked it open, dodging through the crowd. People gave them dirty looks as they teetered through the loud club in their high heels, racing to get away. "Go, go, go!" Rosalie gasped, shoving at her friend. Her gut had been right; they needed to get away, and fast.

The swirling lights and loud music didn't help her already shocked senses; she could feel her heart pounding in her chest as she wove her way through the endless crowd of people, fleeing for her life.

"Pixie! Grab that cab!"

They darted into the waiting taxi as soon as they were outside. After screaming at him to step on the gas, it peeled away from the curb and down the busy city street. Neither one of the spoke until they got to Alice's downtown apartment.

Rosalie walked slowly across the floor of the lobby, her heels echoing against the marble. "That really happened."

"No…no…" Alice babbled. "It didn't happen…no…"

"Pixie," Rosalie said firmly, grabbing her shoulders. "We have to go to the police."

Alice's tear streaked face grew ashen.

"We can't…we can't go to the police. They'll think we were involved! Sometimes accomplices go to jail, Rose, and…and…"

"Why would they think we were involved?"

Alice bit her lip, looking away.

"Tell me, Pixie!" Rosalie exclaimed.

"I gave Demetri my number. He has my phone number in his pocket. They'll know, Rosalie. They'll know!"

Rosalie gaped at her friend. "You gave that creep your number? Alice, you idiot!"

"I'm sorry, I just…he was cute, and…and he seemed normal at first. I mean, what was I supposed to do? If we go to the police, they'll know we were involved, Rose!"

"Um, not give him your number!" Rosalie hissed, slamming the door behind them. She clicked both locks on, sliding the deadbolt into place. Somehow, the resounding click of the steel didn't do much to calm her churning stomach.

"What are we going to do?" Alice whined, gripping the kitchen counter.

Rosalie kicked off her shoes, eyeing her best friend.

"We're not going to do anything. If you don't want to go to the police…I can't make you. But this is a mistake."

"We can't," Alice whispered, walking over to her. "Rose, they'll know that we were there. How can we prove that we weren't involved?"

Rosalie paused, licking her lips as she leaned over the counter. The bottom of her stomach churned nervously, and she had a bad feeling in her gut.

"I don't know, Alice, I-"

"I…I'm scared, Rose."

 **x-x-x-x-x-**

 **This was an idea that came to me from a different story but I changed a few things in it. I love the Jasper and Rosalie pairing thing, lol. This is a short story, but I'm really excited to share it with you all.**


	3. Chapter Two: Warning

**Chapter Two**

 **Warning**

"We're not going to do anything. If you don't want to go to the police…I can't make you. But this is a mistake."

"We can't," Alice whispered, walking over to her. "Rose, they'll know that we were there. How can we prove that we weren't involved?"

Rosalie paused, licking her lips as she leaned over the counter. The bottom of her stomach churned nervously, and she had a bad feeling in her gut.

"I don't know, Alice, I-"

"I…I'm scared, Rose."

Alice's words echoed in Rosalie's mind. With a heavy sigh, she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees.

"Tell me again what she said, Rose."

Her eyes flicked up to meet her mother's best friend who also happends to be her godfather eye's. His concern was visible on the drawn lines of his face. He looked as tired as she felt. Then again, not sleeping for almost thirty six straight hours would do that to a person.

"She said she gave him her phone number. She was worried that it would lead him to her. And she was right."

"Now, Rose—"

"No, Sam. She was right. He found her right away. And now…" She trailed off, wringing her hands together. The image of Alice's bloodied, mangled body on her kitchen floor would be permanently frozen in her mind after that morning. She had called and called, and had finally gone over to see what was up. She was met with the gruesome scene of her dead best friend. When she returned home, a message had been sloppily scrawled on her living room mirror. She winced, just thinking about the message, written in what had turned out to be Alice's blood.

You're next.

She shivered, glancing down at the coffee in her hand. The half a cup she had consumed earlier in the day churned in her stomach, making her even sicker than she already felt. The outside of the cup was warm, and it soothed her a little to know that she was sitting in the safest place she could be right now–the police station. Her godfather, the chief, had been one of the first people to the scene. Before she knew it, her downtown apartment had been swarming with cops and covered in yellow caution tape, as she was sure Alice's apartment was.

"We'll get this taken care of, Rose. They won't get away with anything," Sam reassured her. He patted her hand, nodding slightly at her.

She forced a weak smile, avoiding his large brown eyes. They were so warm and loving and completely accepting of her and anything she did who he's sees her and treated like his own daughter that she felt bad for her actions. If she hadn't been out partying that night like she shouldn't have been, she wouldn't be in this mess in the first place. Even though Sam and my mother were just best friends Sam's eyes were the same deep, rich color as her mother's; sometimes she felt like they were looking into her soul. Secretly, she feared he could read her every thought by just looking at her.

"Thanks Sam."

"Is there anything else you can possibly think of that would help us out?"

She shook her head. No, she had been over the gruesome details over and over again in her mind. The only thing that became brutally clear was that there was a killer out there, and that she was next on his hit list.

I'm never going to feel safe again,she thought.

Rosalie shifted in the uncomfortable plastic chair. The image of Alice's mangled, bloodied body was burned into her mind.

Sam looked up over his glasses. He sighed, dropping his Bic pen on his desk. "We're going to find this guy, Rose. He's obviously a lunatic; guys like that leave traces – traces we're bound to catch, sooner or later."

She felt her stomach twist again "Sooner or later? What's that supposed to mean, Sam? I'm just supposed to sit and wait for this psycho freak to come and hack me up into pieces like sushi?"

Sam grimaced slightly, rubbing his fingers over his chin. His face twisted for a second as he thought; it was obvious to Rosalie that he was trying not to scare her.

"Where are your parents?"

She made a disgusted sound, leaning back in the plastic seat. "Vacationing. Where else? I can't even keep track anymore."

Sam's somber face tightened at the mention of his best friend. He pursed his lips and thought. "You wanna stay with your godfather?"

She shivered. Sam's bachelor pad was not where she wanted to stay.

"No, I can't….put you out like that Sam. I can't avoid my house forever."

"I just wish you felt safer."

"Me too."

"We'll catch this guy, Rose. In the meantime…just go home and try to get some rest."

Rosalie shifted in her chair. "Right," she replied sarcastically.

Her Godfather sighed deeply, obviously upset that his Goddaughter was so upset.

"I'm going to make sure they…cleaned up when they were done with the investigation," Sam muttered.

Rosalie looked away, her eyes tearing up. Her best friend was dead, and her blood had been smeared on her bathroom mirror. The gruesome sight of the wordsYou're nexthad surely been cleaned off by now; her apartment was surely back to normal. But how could she go there, knowing thathehad been there? The man that was on the hunt for her...

And rightfully so. She had seen him kill a man in cold blood, without even batting an eye. Had the unlucky guy in the alley been the first? Something told her no. She doubted anyone could react so passively to their first murder.

No. He had killed before.

And now, he wanted her to be next.

Movement on the other side of Sam's office door caught her attention. She peered through the small opening, watching as a man in handcuffs was putting up a fight as an office dragged him in. He began yelling something incoherent; he was obviously drunk. Even in handcuffs, he was quite the menace; she laughed to herself a bit as he bit into the arm of an officer, who yelped in pain.

"Ow! Now what did you do that-"

The officer wrestled with the man again, trying to get a better grasp on his flailing body with no avail.

He swung again, his hands handcuffed together, at another victim. Her smile quickly faded, however, when a loud resounding crack echoed in the air. He fell backward, quickly slumping down against a chair.

A smooth voice with a southern accent cockily replied, "That ought to quiet him down."

Rosalie peered out the crack in the door, trying to see who the voice belonged to. Then, she saw him.

This man would make marble statues hang their heads in shame and envy. She imagined that the porcelain would automatically use this man's skin as a definition. With his wide, muscled shoulders, pale white skin, and otherwise 'hulking', but tall and lanky physique, he was one of the most attractive men she had ever seen. Her chest grew tight as she stared at him, suddenly in utter awe of the way his tight, navy blue t-shirt was delightfully stretched across his pectoral muscles. The edges of the shirt looked strained as they fought against his round, sculpted arms, and Rosalie definitely took notice. Clearing her throat, she sat up in her chair slightly and leaned forward to get a better look. At the same time, the Ice blue, crystal eyed, stranger looked up, meeting her gaze.

Time stood still for a brief second as he watched her. She felt her mouth fall open slightly without her control, but she was utterly powerless in that tiny second in time.

Suddenly, the drunken man kicked at him, making the tight-muscled cop jump and curse under his breath.

Sam slipped back in the door, an annoyed look gracing his features.

"Sorry about that. No good, drugged out…" he muttered under his breath, shuffling past her.

Sam was probably a few short years away from retirement, Rosalie noted to herself with a pang of sadness. Sam was getting older; it was evident in his tired eyes and steadily wrinkling skin. However, the police force was what gave him joy, and her mom couldn't bear to encourage him to retire. After his parents got kill in a car wreck, he was in his mid teens, her grandparents took him in, making him part of the family, making him and her mother, like brother and sister. After her grandparents passed away, from old age, years ago, her mother married and moved away with her father, being a police officer was one of the only things Sam Uley looked forward to in life, and Rosalie knew that.

"It's okay, Godfather," she said, rubbing her temples. Her tired, stressed to the max state of mind was making her head throb, and she desperately wanted to go home and get a good night's sleep.But what will be waiting for me at home?she thought worriedly.

"You should go home and get some sleep," Sam said, echoing her thoughts. "We'll be doing everything we can, Rosalie. In the meantime…try to think of anything else."

Rosalie took his advice, heading home soon after. There was nothing she could do besides worry and think about Alice, and neither of those would change with the scenery. Giving up, she crept back to her apartment building, all the while wishing her family lived closer. Her parents were on vacation on their private island off the coast of Rio, and her brother Emmett and his wife Bella, along with their sister Bree and her husband Seth, had recently moved to upstate New York. Rosalie was all alone.

The door to her apartment swung open, and to her chagrin, her fancy, upscale surroundings had never looked more bleak. The sleek, modern furniture and sparkling view of the city did nothing to make her feel better. Instead, it made the whole space seem daunting and empty.

Walking in, she flipped on as many lights as she could, to make her surroundings as comforting as possible. For some reason, she felt like bright lights would scare away an intruder. She kicked off her shoes, retreating to her bedroom to get into her pajamas. While she was in her closet, hunting for her favorite pair, her mind began to wander.

Was that a noise? Did I hear something scratch at the window? Where's my pepper spray? I should have bought that baseball bat!her mind screamed as she changed her clothes. She slipped into her favorite pair of black satin pajamas, peeking her head out of her closet. Nothing but silence greeted her.

Tiptoeing out of her room, she peered down the hallway towards the front door. Had she just heard a noise outside the door? A car honking on the city street below made her jump.

Stop,she chided herself.Now you're just being ridiculous.

Jutting her chin up, she sighed determinedly. She couldn't go through life jumping at every other sound; in a city the size of Seattle, she would never sleep!

Grabbing a pillow, she settled down on her couch, feeling utterly ridiculous. The face of the man back at the police station flashed in front of her eyes.

I had no idea godfather worked with such a fine piece of eye-candy….she thought to herself. Pulling her afghan off the back of her couch, she snuggled into the soft cushions and turned her TV on as a background distraction. The noise onscreen soothed her a little, even if the volume was on low. She was almost asleep when something jarred her awake.

What was that? What woke me up?she thought to herself, looking around. Something had definitely woken her - but what?

Suddenly, she heard the distinct sound of footsteps. Not just any footsteps – heavy footsteps. Footsteps of a man. A big, scary man.

Her mind began to run away with itself, creating images of Demetri and his menacing glare, stalking after her in a darkened alley. Was he waiting outside? Did he have the same knife he'd used in the alley that night?

Her stomach twisted as she clutched a pillow from her couch, her eyes wide.

Clump, clump, clump…

There it was again. Rosalie began to shake, standing up quickly. Her hands trembled uncontrollably as she searched for something large and preferably heavy to defend herself with. She picked up a clay vase, hastily discarding the flowers that remained inside. Moving steadily towards the door, she positioned herself behind it so that she could get the jump on whoever it was. There was a silent pause, and she swore she could hear her own heart beating through her chest. It hammered inside of her, making her ears ring.

Her eyes burned into the door handle, waiting for it to move. Then…it did.

The metal twisted, moving slowly but surely as the latch clicked open. Mentally, she kicked herself for not locking it; she had been so out of it with exhaustion that she had completely and stupidly forgotten to lock it.

With another click, the door swung open, and a large figure stepped in. Rosalie closed her eyes, sucked in a deep breath, and swung the vase with all her might.


	4. Chapter Three: Intruder

_Her eyes burned into the door handle, waiting for it to move. Then…it did._ _The metal twisted, moving slowly but surely as the latch clicked open. Mentally, she kicked herself for not locking it; she had been so out of it with exhaustion that she had completely and stupidly forgotten to lock it._ _With another click, the door swung open, and a large figure stepped in. Rosalie closed her eyes, sucked in a deep breath, and swung the vase with all her might._

 **Chapter Three**

 **Intruder**

It came in contact with her victim with a resounding crack, the pieces shattering and falling to the floor.

"Ow!"

"Ahhh!" she screamed at the same time, jumping back. The noise startled her, even as prepared as she was for the strike.

"Holy fuck, what was that for?"

Opening her eyes, she gasped suddenly. There in her doorway was the large, amazingly attractive porcelain pale man from the police station. His eyes were half closed in a pained wince as he held his arm, his jaw open in shock.

"You…you hit me with a vase?" he gasped.

Rosalie whimpered, still frozen in shock and fear.

The man winced again, reaching into his shirt pocket. He opened his eyes enough to open his wallet, showing a shiny, bronze police badge, just like Sam's.

"Oh my god, I thought you were…I thought you were an intruder!" she gasped, covering her mouth with her hand.

He made an astounded face at her, clearly un-amused.

"An intruder?"

"Well…yeah."

He gave her a befuddled look as her eyes lit up with recognition. It was indeed the hotter than hot man that she had spied earlier in the day. The same one that had taken her breath away with his good looks. She swallowed, wincing at her accident.

"You're from the police station!"

"Um, yeah?"

"Oh God…I hit you!"

"I came to protect you!"

"I didn't know that!"

"Youhitme!"

"You broke into my apartment!"

"It was un-freaking-locked!" his loud voice boomed.

Rosalie jumped slightly, surprise registering on her features as the loud sound resonated.

"Is this how you repay someone who was sent to protect you?Crap," he muttered, rubbing his arm where the vase had shattered.

Indignance flared in her stubborn mind. How dare this handsome stranger come up intoherapartment and snap at her?

"Um, you might have thought twice before sneaking in here like some weirdo! What were you doing, anyway? Did you ever hear of doorbells?"

He looked up from his arm, his crystal blue eyes instantly darkened up. Rosalie felt her insides twist as he gazed angrily at her. "Did you ever think to lock your door? I could have been your hunter, ready to waltz in here and make you—"

He stopped, realizing that Rosalie's eyes had glazed over slightly with fear.

"Uh…"

"Make me what?" she prodded, her voice shaking.

He stopped, closing his mouth. "Nothing…never mind…er…but did you have to hit me with a vase?" he asked softly, rolling up his shirt sleeve.

Rosalie gulped slightly as she took in the view of the wide, pale band of muscles that covered his arm. There were several cuts from the vase that were already oozing blood.

"I'm sorry. I was just…freaked out. It's been a long day, as you've probably heard down at the station. Ah…sorry. Rosalie," she offered, holding out her hand.

"Jasper, but everyone calls me Jazz."

"Jazz," she repeated softly. "Well, under different circumstances, I'd say it's nice to meet you…but these aren't exactly nice."

"I've noticed," he mused, looking over all the shards of vase scattered around the floor.

"Do you want a band aid?" she asked softly.

He looked up in surprise, his own expression softening as the shock of what had just happened faded. The adrenaline was pumping through the entry way where they stood, making them both a little on edge. As she calmed down further and led him to the kitchen, Rosalie became aware once again of how utterly good looking and statuesque this man was. She watched with eager eyes as he rinsed off his arm in her sink, accepting a towel to dry it off. When she handed it to him, their fingers brushed. Her hear began to pound in response, but this time, in a good way.

"Nah…it should stop bleeding in a few minutes. I heal quick," he quipped, flashing her a bright smile.

She gripped the counter beside her, giving him a lopsided little smile in return.He wasn't all that bad when he wasn't being an ass,she thought.

"Yeah, I get a lot of bumps and bruises. This is nothing. But you really should lock your door," he added quickly. His voice had softened compared to earlier; he wasn't snapping at her for hitting him with a vase.

"Yeah... Why are you here?" she asked, turning her head to the side to look up at him.

He crossed his arms over his wide chest, puffing it out slightly with a visible pride and self satisfaction.

"To protect you, of course."

She raised an eyebrow at his smug answer. "Really?" she asked flatly, mimicking his stance.

He stared at her, his eyebrows knit together.

"Well, if you continue going around leaving doors unlocked, it's going to be a full time job. Not that it already isn't."

"What are you talking about? Did Sam put you up to this?"

"He might have," he answered. "Would that be so bad? The poor guy is worried about you."

She shrugged, brushing past him to walk out of the kitchen. "I don't need hired help, if that's what you are," she replied, pulling her broom and dustpan out of the hallway closet. She began to sweep up her broken vase, eying him in the process.

"I'm not hired help. It's my job to protect people that need it…and trust me…you need it," he replied softly.

Rosalie avoided meeting his icy blue eyes as he watched her sweep up the broken pieces.

She swept up the rest of the pieces in silence, a shiver rushing down her spine. She knew she needed help; she had only been alone for a few hours, and already, she felt like her mind was abandoning all logic. What would an entire night do to her? She already felt like a nervous wreck.

"Well…either way, it's Sam's orders to protect you at all costs. He doesn't trust your little…err, artist," Jasper muttered, looking at the mirror in the living room, where her bloody message had been scrawled.

Every time Rosalie looked at the large mirror above her fireplace, she saw the gruesome image of 'you're next' scrawled on it in Alice's blood. The picture of her warning message from Demetri had practically been burned into her mind.

"You've been here before, haven't you?" she asked, looking up from the mess she was cleaning.

He nodded, jamming his hands in his pockets. "I came by to scope out the crime scene, yeah. And well…Sam was pretty shaken, I won't lie."

Rosalie looked back down, feeling embarrassed and ashamed to have drug her poor, kind-hearted godfather into her messy life. Sam had always been around, for as long as she could remember. His kind brown eyes and gentle smile had always taken her wild ways in stride, and she loved him dearly for that. Now, to have him worrying about her when he didn't need to, made her sick to think about.

"Yeah, well…Sam's near retirement; he just doesn't need anything else to worry about. I wish he would just…give it up already. Our whole family wants him to," she said nonchalantly, sweeping up the last of the broken shards into the pan.

It was true. Five years ago, Sam had been involved in a bank robbery stand off, and in the process, had gotten shot in the leg. After the accident, he admitted he had taken the bullet for a rookie on the force who was barely out of training. The bullet had barely scraped his thigh, but Sam wasn't one to complain. It had given her entire family quite the scare – mainly her mother. Esme had taken two weeks off of work to stay at home with him and baby him back to perfect health. She had begged her best friend/brother to retire, but he had laughed it off as part of the job.

Standing up, Rosalie walked past Jasper, to casually dump the swept up pieces into the trash.

"Chief Uley still has a lot of good years in him. He practically taught me everything I know," Jasper argued back, furrowing his dark eyebrows together. "When he says 'jump', I say 'how high?' because Sam knows what he's doing. Hell, after nearly forty years in the game, he knows just about all there is to know. I don't take his orders lightly. If he says that I need to watch over you until this whole thing blows over, then…then I will."

Rosalie paused, closing the lid to the trash can. "Why do I feel like I'm missing part of the story? I mean…he's the older, experienced guy on the force, sure, but…why do you care what happens to me?"

She was being stubborn, and she knew it. Part of her really wanted the handsome cop standing in her living room to be at her every beck and call; however, her prideful side scorned the idea.

"I just…" Jasper frowned again, looking away. "I owe him, okay? But it's a debt I would happily repay."

"Meaning?"

"Never mind," he snapped. "From now on, things are gonna change. You won't go anywhere alone – and I do meananywhere. We're also…" He walked over to the counter where her cell phone was. He flipped it off, tossing it back down. "…going to have to change the way you live. You have to be harder to find, harder to track."

Rosalie fumed slightly, running over to her phone. "What are you doing? You can't just go around switching off people's phones!"

"What does it matter?" he asked sourly. A cocky smirk crossed his features. "Worried your boyfriend won't be able to call or something?"

Rosalie scoffed, grabbing her phone. "No, and for your information…I don't have a boyfriend. I broke up with him."

Jasper's eyebrows raised momentarily, but he shook his head and moved on. "Well, either way, you need to be more careful."

"Careful?" she snapped. "I found my dead friend three days ago. Herbloodwas on my living room mirror when I came home last night. What do you think I've been doing since then?"

"I'm just warning you, that's all."

"Tell me something I don't know," she muttered, pushing past him.

His skin brushed hers, making the hairs on her arms stand up. She looked away, hoping he hadn't noticed her reaction. How someone could both infuriate and captivate her at the same time was inexplicably intriguing.

"Look, there's a killer out there, and Rosalie Hale is at the top of his hit list. Do you want me to stay or go? It's up to you."

Rosalie crossed her arms. "Well, when you put it so lightly…" she answered sarcastically.

He sighed, grunting in frustration. "Are you always this impossible?"

Her eyebrows shot up. "Are you always this big of an ass? We just met, and already, you're giving me more orders than an indentured servant!"

She watched as his icy blue eyes darkened.God, he looks hot when he's angry,her mind thought without her control. Leaning back, she gripped the counter behind her and watched him stride around the living room. The way his sculpted body moved across the floor was almost like a animal; it was graceful, self assured, and with purpose. Her heart beat picked up slightly, the rhythm of it pounding in her ears.

"I don't have to keep you safe, you know. I could leave right now and not give another thought to what happens to you." Jasper turned around in front of the door, giving her a pointed stare.

Rosalie frowned again. "Fine," she challenged. "Then go."

He stared at her for a second, his eyebrows raised. Then, with a quick shake of his head, he turned the handle on her apartment door. It creaked open, and he began to step out.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," he added quietly, crossing the threshold. The door clicked shut, echoing slightly in her large apartment. It suddenly felt colder…emptier, without him there.

The solitude surrounded her, suddenly making her quite aware that she was indeed alone. Her parents were on another continent, her closest relatives besides Sam were a six hour flight away. She was truly and utterly alone.

The faucet dripped in the sink. Somewhere outside, a car alarm went off. A plane flew overhead, and someone was yelling in the street. Her ice maker made a loud noise, signaling fresh ice, and she practically jumped out of her skin.

No, this wouldn't do.

Swallowing her fear and her pride, she raced to the door. Her bare feet move quickly against the tiles, propelling her forward, as she flung the door open and ran out into the hallway.

She could only hope she wouldn't be too late.


	5. Chapter Four: Princess

_"Don't say I didn't warn you," he added quietly, crossing the threshold. The door clicked shut, echoing slightly in her large apartment. It suddenly felt colder…emptier, without him there._ _The solitude surrounded her, suddenly making her quite aware that she was indeed alone. Her parents were on another continent, her closest relatives besides Sam were a six hour flight away. She was truly and utterly alone._ _The faucet dripped in the sink. Somewhere outside, a car alarm went off. A plane flew overhead, and someone was yelling in the street. Her ice maker made a loud noise, signaling fresh ice, and she practically jumped out of her skin._ _No, this wouldn't do._ _Swallowing her fear and her pride, she raced to the door. Her bare feet move quickly against the tiles, propelling her forward, as she flung the door open and ran out into the hallway._ _She could only hope she wouldn't be too late_.

 **Chapter Four**

 **Princess**

Rosalie threw open the door, her hear pounding in her chest. If Jasper left, she knew that she would be a goner. There was no way she could even handle being alone for fifteen seconds, much less all night. Her nerves were already making her want to jump out of her skin! She knew she had to get to him and fast.

Rounding the corner, she winced a split second before colliding with Jasper. "Hey!", he bellowed, making Rosalie yelp in surprised. "Ow!", Jasper kinda growls to himself. She ran into him with a thud. He leaned against the wall for support, as she fell helplessly to the ground in a clumsy heap, after running straight into him.

"Ow…I…I thought you left?" she asked, rubbing her throbbing funny bone. "I did!" he snapped, gazing icy at her, his crystal blue eyes glinting. She opened her mouth, but only a small squeak of surprise came out. "What are you doing out here?", he asked from his crouch against the wall. "Nothing…" she grumbled. Jasper gave her a look that clearly said he didn't buy her answer.

He winced slightly, rising up from his crouch against the wall. "Why do you always have to hurt me somehow?" She shrugged from her place on the floor, looking around the hallway. She was glad they were still alone. "So what were you coming out to say?" he prodded, crossing his arms. Rosalie looked away, suddenly embarrassed for feeling like such a chicken. "I…" she stuttered, avoiding his gaze.

He reached a hand down, offering her some assistance. Surprise fluttered through her as she reached up, grasping his hand, and allowed him to pull her up. "What?" he prodded, still holding onto her hand. Rosalie glanced down, feeling sparks of pleasant electricity sizzling through her hand where their fingers were joined. "I was just coming out to…say that…I'm sorry, and…" she practically choked. Something about the way his icy gaze held hers gave her goose bumps. His face showed his blatant surprise at her words. "And what?" he asked in disbelief. "I…I don't really…want to be alone," she admitted bashfully, dropping his hand.

Jasper looked down where their fingers had just been joined, surprise registering on his face. "You would want me to stay?" He asked somewhat surprised. She let out the breath she had been holding and gave him an awkward shrug. "Well, after what happened…" She stopped, shivering at the thought. "I don't have to…." He said, while looking at her. "Do you need me to spell it out for you? I'm scared shitless, okay? There! I said it! I'm scared. I'm scared of what would happen if I spent the night alone." He gave her another amused look. "Well…" he stammered, his expression softening, "I guess I could stay…for a while. Just to…make sure you're all right," he said softly. She felt herself smile slightly, unsure of how she should act. When he was being stubborn and a know-it-all, he was an ass. However, when he was nice, he was quite sweet…and very, very hot.

"Come in?" she asked timidly, putting her hand on the door. He nodded, following her inside. "I…wasn't expecting company," she admitted sheepishly, suddenly shy. "Do you want something to drink?" He looked around the space, scoping it out and only half listening to her question. "Ah…no, I'm fine," he muttered, walking over to the windows. Rosalie noticed how he's inspection everything around. With a click, he tested the locks on each one in the living room.

Rosalie watched him carefully, ducking into the kitchen to pick up a glass. She poured herself a glass of wine, in hopes that it would soothe her frazzled nerves. In all the commotion, she had barely had a chance to remember that her best friend was gone. A feeling of sadness settled over her momentarily as she stared down into the red wine. The color looked hauntingly familiar. Blood, she thought. Would she ever be able to think of anything else again? Taking a sip, she took a deep breath and shook her head at how silly she was being.

Jasper looked up from his personal investigation of prodding around her living room, raising an eyebrow at her. "Distraction?" She shrugged, settling the bottle down on the counter. "Maybe. My best friend turned up dead yesterday. Can't I have a glass in her honor?". "Never said you couldn't." He said while checking everything out. "Do you want some?" She asked somewhat slowly. "I'm not a wine type of guy," he admitted slowly, looking over at her. Rosalie sighed, picking up her wine glass to take a long chug. "Well, I'm not sorry.". "Didn't say you had to be. You're a big girl…do what you want." He glanced back at her while walking through her living room.

She rolled her eyes, walking around the counter back into the living room. "You really came here because Sam asked you to?" He nodded. "I do anything Sam asks me to.". Rosalie snorted. "Suck up much?" He glared at her. "To you, he might be a godfather. To me…he might as well be an encyclopedia of how to be a good cop. He's…". "He's Sam," she said flatly. He scoffed at her, following her over to the couch. "He's an amazing cop. He's fair, he's decent, and he's braver than everyone down there at the station put together. His number one goal in life is to make this city safe for everyone."

Rosalie watched as he walked around the sofa, giving her apartment a disgusted look. His eyes returned to her, his expression softening. She felt her breath catch in her throat a little as she watched him watch her with his big, crystal, expressive eyes. They seemed to have no problem reflecting whatever type of emotion he felt. "I'll um…be right back," she mumbled, suddenly realizing she was in pajamas, with her hair in a messy ponytail, in front of a very hot, very muscular man that she barely knew.

He didn't seem to notice her exit from the room as he continued to observe her surroundings. Racing back to her bedroom, she quickly shut the door, before darting to her closet. She pulled a soft, long, white cashmere sweater out, pairing it with a lacy black camisole top to peek out underneath. She kept the satin pajama pants, stepping out of her ridiculous bunny slippers. Yanking her long, blonde curls out of the messy ponytail, she frantically tousled and finger combed them into somewhat of an organized mess. Dabbing a little lip gloss on her mouth.

She assessed herself in the mirror. "You're being stupid. He's hot, but he's an ass. And a cop. A cop that works with Sam." Her mind continued to argue with itself, making her stomach jump and twist with nervous confliction. While part of her was happy she didn't have to be alone in her apartment with a killer on the loose, the other part of her didn't quite know how to take Jasper. Most guys fell at her feet to charm and please her; if they didn't know she was a Hale, one of the most prestigiously rich and social families in the city of Seattle, they knew she was beautiful. Rosalie had never once in her life had trouble attracting guys. But somehow…she sensed that Jasper would make her work for it. That aspect of him both intrigued and insulted her. She primped for a few more seconds in front of the mirror, before walking back out to see what her unexpected guest was up to.

"So…you're close with Sam, huh?" she asked, entering the living room again. Jasper was busy examining the pictures on her wall near the fireplace. "Yeah…" Jasper trailed off, studying a picture of her with Sam when she was a child. She had been eight when the picture was taken, and she had been on a weekend camping and fishing trip with her godfather. "You like to fish?" he asked, his voice tinged with hope.

Rosalie snorted as she walked over to him. "Not anymore," she laughed. "Gross." "You don't seem like you got, uh…much in common with Sam." "Are you always this rude?" she asked, folding her arms again. He was hot, but he had a mouth on him, even she had to admit.

He turned, looking at her with an amused smirk. "Down girl. I was just saying…pretty posh," he said, gesturing to her surroundings. "Sam doesn't seem to have lot of money, or at least, he doesn't act like he does." "Well, I don't…I mean…" she stuttered.

He gave her another knowing nod as he flopped down on her couch, putting his heavily booted feet onto the table with a loud clunk. Rosalie winced, hoping his ugly boot didn't damage the expensive coffee table her her sister, Bree had sent her from Europe. "Ah," Jasper replied, leaning back. "Say no more. Daddy.". "What makes you so sure?" she asked with a frown. He chuckled knowingly, rolling his eyes. "Please. Sam said you work in advertising, and you've only been out of school for a year. Now, no offense, Princess, but how much money could you possibly make? Not enough to afford these swell digs, I'm sure."

She frowned, walking over to sit on the chair opposite the couch. "I might come from some money. But what does that matter?" Jasper watched her, his pale, smooth face void of all emotion. "You could quit work tomorrow and never have to work a day of your life, wouldn't you, Princess?". "Quit calling me that," she snapped. "What does it matter? I work because I like it. I enjoy having a purpose in life, thank you very much.". "Right," he scoffed.

"Anyway…do you care if I crash right here?", Jasper asked, sitting up to taking off his jacket, "This couch is pretty comfy.". "You're staying?" she asked, her eyes wide. He nodded. "Don't you want me to? I figure if your friend comes back, it will probably be tonight. He won't want you to get far, I'm guessing. Or he might not want to come back to the scene of the crime at all. I have no idea–that's the unpredictable part of guys like tha—" He stopped mid-sentence, noticing Rosalie's wide, scared eyes. "Sorry," he muttered. "I didn't mean to scare you.". She shifted in her seat, avoiding his icy gaze. Standing up, she made her way to the linen closet to gather a few things for him to use to sleep on her couch.

"Where should I put my gun? This all right?" he asked, taking his gun belt off and dropping it on the coffee table. "Why do you have a gun? Do you need it in my house?" she asked nervously. She had never really cared for weapons of any sort. He gave her a perplexed stare. "Uuhh…don't you expect a cop to maybe…carry around a gun? What did you think I would have, a light saber? No, Princess, I carry a gun like most cops do. And wouldn't you want him to use it if he had to, oh…I don't know, kill a crazy psycho who is out to get you?" Rosalie's mouth snapped shut. "Well…when you put it like that," she muttered. "Do you want a blanket?"

"Nah. I'm good," he said, shaking off her offer for a pillow and a blanket. Kicking off his boots, he lay down on the couch. "I should be good here. Try to get some sleep, Princess," he said with a wink.

Rosalie began to protest, but said nothing as he settled down on her couch. His jeans and t-shirt didn't appear to be all that comfortable, but he didn't complain. She watched as he lay back on the couch, stretching out in an effort to get comfortable. As he moved, the bottom of his t-shirt rode up just enough to reveal a peek of his pale stomach and the light trail of hair that faded into his dark jeans. Blushing, she turned away and paused in the doorway.

"My room is right here…just…make yourself at home, um…" she rambled. "I'll be fine, Princess," he muttered nonchalantly from the couch, while closing his crystal bue eyes. She bit back a laugh. "My name is Rosalie," she reminded him. He peeked over at her with one eye open, tinkling with mischief. Rolling her eyes, she shook her head and shuffled down the hallway to her bedroom. "Just go to sleep."

She was surprised how easily she was able to find sleep that night. For the first time in hours, she wasn't thinking of bloody, mangled bodies and psycho killers lurking outside of her window, waiting to seek revenge. Instead, her mind drifted to something completely different – the pale skinned, tall, lusciously muscled man sleeping on her couch. As much as she tried to not think about how attractive he was, she knew that her efforts were pretty much hopeless. She drifted to sleep and was not awoken until hours later.

Creak. Creak…creak.

Her eyes flew open. She had almost forgotten. In the midst of avoiding her girlish crush on Sam's coworker, she had almost let Demetri slip completely from her mind.

And yet, as the distinct sound of someone walking on the fire escape outside her window broke through her sleepy mind, the image of Demetri's dark, haunting eyes once again became clear.

The noise stopped. Whoever it was paused. There was the sound of metal against metal behind her gauzy curtains, and Rosalie's heart began to pound.

He's trying to get in! Her mind screamed. Jumping up quietly, she tried to control her breathing, as her sweaty palms searched for something hard to strike him with.

Yeah, right,she thought. Her breaths were heavy and nervous as she crept through her dark bedroom. The noise continued; it was quiet, but apparent that he was trying to get in.

Suddenly, a hand clamped over her mouth. She jumped, her body tensing completely as she realized someone was behind her, their arm clamping around her waist. His hot skin burned into her back as she came in contact with his body. His grip on her was tight, but not menacing. Relaxing slightly, instinctively, melting into him more, seeking refuge, she turned, his hand still over her mouth. Her eyes widened when she realized it was Jasper. "Shhh…" he whispered, his light eyes darkened.

She could barely see anything in the dim light of her dark bedroom, but she could tell that he wasn't messing around. Whoever was outside on her fire escape was still trying to get in.

"Go lock yourself in the guest room. If I yell run, go down the other side of the fire escape," he whispered almost silently. His warm breath blew against her ear, making her shiver slightly as the adrenaline coursed through her body.

She nodded as he slowly released her from his grip. He stalked forward carefully, motioning for her to go. Rosalie hesitated, gasping to herself when she saw his gun tucked carefully in his jeans. He was wearing nothing but his untied boots and the same faded, slightly sagging denim that he had been earlier; however, now she could see that he was shirtless.

I should be running in for my life and all I can think about is how he looks shirtless!she chided herself. Her heart continued to pound as she hurried back to the guest bedroom, locking herself in. There was silence for a few minutes–or was it hours? Time stood still as she waited for something – anything – to happen. With shaking hands, she turned the lock on the door.

How had her life gotten to be such a mess? Two months ago, she was graduating from college, partying with her friends, and saying goodbye to her loving, but boring, boyfriend Alistair. As much as she loved him, he was more of a friend at that point. He was perfect to her – always opening doors, agreeing with her, and doing anything he could to keep her happy. However, that wasn't what she was looking for in a partner. Alistair never fought her on anything, and she needed more excitement than that. The sex was predicable and ho-hum after just two years of dating, and the more she had thought about marrying him, the more suffocated she'd felt. She had been enjoying her time in the city as a carefree socialite, never attending the same club more than twice and drinking girly cocktails to her heart's content, as she lived up the single life.

The sound of something large and glass breaking cut through her thoughts. There was another series of loud thumps and bangs, and she covered her mouth with her hand in a mixture of fear and shock. There were a few more sounds, and suddenly, everything went quiet. Rosalie could still feel her heart pounding in her chest as she listened to the silence. I've never heard silence this loud,she thought with a few shaky breaths. Then, when she was about to open the door and investigate, she heard it.

A few loud, heavy footsteps and a soft rap on the door. "Rosalie?" She exhaled loudly, still shaking with fear as it left her body. "Jasper!" she gasped, lunging at him. Surprise crossed his features as she flung herself against his chest, hugging him tightly. "Uh, you're welcome?" he laughed. He took a few deep breaths, tentatively hugging her in return.

"What happened?" she whispered, looking over, she couldn't bring herself to move, with her hands gripping at the waist of Jasper's jeans. He glanced backwards, following her gaze to the broken window and torn up living room behind him. "We had a…slight scuffle," he admitted, running one of his hands through his disheveled, blonde hair, while the other rubbing up her arm to her shoulder leaving it there, sending shivers through her body. She noticed another cut on his arm and one on his chest, but otherwise, he looked all right. "D-Demetri?", she stuttered with wide eyes.

Jasper glanced back at the disheveled living room again and nodded. "'Fraid so. Listen…he's gone. He knows I'm here, and he won't try anything again.", squeezing his hand on her shoulder, trying to comfort her somewhat.

"I'm….I'm so glad you were here," she choked out. He gave her a look of surprise, but it quickly turned smug. "Yeah, well….just doing my job. No need to get all emotional." She frowned, making a slight face, letting go of his waist, moving away from his grasp, making his hand slip off her shoulder. "I wasn't getting emotional. Ass." He grinned at that. "Well, it's alright, you can if you like…."

"Jasper…" she whined, looking at him kinda annoyed. "Call me Jazz, when you whine at me, Princess.", gazing through his playful, crystal blue eyes. "Shut up!", she said looking away, avoiding his is icy gaze, stifling a slight giggle.

He grinned at her, wiping one of his dripping cuts. She glanced down at his bare chest in shock, surveying the damage, forgetting what just happened. "He had a knife?" she asked lowly, gazing at the cuts on him. Jasper shrugged nonchalantly, avoiding her gaze. "Yeah…or something. Got me a couple times…but I'll live."

She swallowed, looking away. If Jasper wouldn't have been there tonight, she would be sushi right now. "I'm glad you're…okay," she said, suddenly shy. He nodded, giving her a light shrug. "Sure, sure. So uh…he's pretty determined. I think you need to get out of town. Soon."


	6. Chapter Five: Hot Cold

**Chapter Five**

 **Hot Cold**

Jasper knew the second he saw Rosalie Hale that she was not for him. Something - no, everything about that girl screamed 'unattainable' to him. Maybe that was why he wanted her even more. He had always wanted things he couldn't have.

From the moment he caught her gaze in the police station earlier that day though….he couldn't get enough. Rosalie wasn't like any of the other girls he was used to. She was different. He couldn't place what made her so irresistible to him. Was it her pale, flawless skin? Her long, blonde waves that hung over one of her eyes? Or was it the way her dark, warm, brown eyes bore right through him?

He hadn't been looking to meet anyone like her when he came to work that morning. It had been a long night, and he was looking forward to going home, having a few beers, and crashing on his couch to a little ESPN. It had been a taxing morning; several men had drunkenly attempted to knock over an ATM and had been none too pleased to be caught. His jaw was still aching from the surprise left hook he had taken from one of the guys before he had gotten him in handcuffs. That was all alright though. All in a day's work for him.

To Jasper, there was nothing as satisfying as coming home after a long day of work while his law-breakers sat on the cold, hard floor of a holding cell. Hearing the locks click into place was his favorite part.

It had started out like any other day, really. A few arrests, a meeting about a future undercover sting, and a bit of paperwork. Then, things had taken a turn for the worse when he least expected it.

He would never be able to shake the mental picture of the crime scene his partner and Chief, Sam, had taken him to that morning. The image of the young girl, bloodied and mangled on her own kitchen floor was not one he would soon forget. Sam had been completely astounded to find that it was the best friend of his goddaughter, Rosalie. That was where Jasper's trouble had begun. Needless to say, the safety of Sam's goddaughter had become their number one priority ever since.

Of course Jasper had seen random pictures over the years of, Rosalie, her sister Bree and their brother Emmett. Sam's desk was scattered with dog-eared photos of the girl as a child and a knobby kneed teen, along with her siblings and their family. However, he hadn't been ready to see the beautiful girl that stepped into the precinct and asked for Sam.

He had wanted to see more of her that day, but sadly the brief glance they shared as he wrestled with a booze-soaked man in handcuffs was all they had gotten. He had soon put two and two together and figured out who she was, thus igniting a personal interest in this particular case.

 **(Earlier that day)**

 _"Hey Chief," he replied, sitting down in the worn chair off to the side of Sam's desk._ _"Jazz," Sam grunted._

 _"Everything okay? I uh….saw that your goddaughter was here," he asked nonchalantly. He hoped the older cop couldn't sense the excitement in his voice._ _Sam glanced up at him from his computer screen, his face more scrunched up than usual._

 _Jasper straightened his face, matching Sam's somber expression._ _"Something wrong?", feeling slight fear creeping through, thinking about Rosalie. He paused again, waiting. "Rose…..got into a bit of trouble, that's all."_ _Jasper's heart wrenched slightly. He hoped it wasn't anything serious. He would hate to see a girl as gorgeous as his goddaughter having problems with something illegal. It would make the fact that he was already attracted to her even more taboo._

 _She's not for you, his mind chanted. Shaking his head to clear the errant thought, he tried to focus on what Sam was explaining to him. He shared the terrible story of what had happened to her friend Alice, and that he had to go down to check out the crime scene soon._

 _"Someone…someone's out to get her?" he asked, leaning forward. He placed his elbows on his knees, staring down at the crime scene photos the Chief had placed in front of him. The gory scene made his stomach turn because he knew it was connected to her. Normally, things like blood and dead bodies were just another aspect of the job that he didn't think twice about._ _These photos made his heart practically beat out of his chest. Someone was clearly after Rosalie._

 _"Can you help me with this?" Sam asked him. His voice was rough with emotion and worry, and Jasper knew that the Chief was desperate. "Of course. I'll go over there myself-right now if you want," Jasper answered quickly._ _Sam gave him a strange look, but his worry was clearly getting the better of his normal demeanor. "You're sure?", looking over Jasper. "Positive.", Jasper answered._

 _Charlie leaned back in his squeaky desk chair, ignoring his ringing telephone. His dark eyes were distant and worried. "Good, then. I'd feel better if someone was there with her….in case."._ _"Sure Chief. I'll be there….just in case."_

 _Jacob stood up quickly, pushing his chair back. "I'll take care of her Sam, I promise. I owe you, and I'll never forget that. "_ _Sam nodded him off, shrugging. "You don't owe me anything kid.", Jasper laughed, "Sure, sure,", clapping him on the shoulder. "But I'd do anything to keep her safe. Can't have the niece-goddaughter of Chief Sam Uley in trouble now, can we?"_

 _Sam nodded, looking up at him gratefully. "Just be careful. Don't do anything I wouldn't do," he tried to joke. Jasper watched him carefully, recognizing the worry that was so clearly laced on his features._

 _"Sure thing Chief.", Jasper walking out of Sam's office, not knowing that his life is about to change._

So now here he was. Rosalie had allowed him to crash on her couch, and that was just fine with him. He had a perfect view of the front door should anyone barge in, and he had a gun on the coffee table and a knife in his boot. He was ready.

Jasper glanced around at her lush surroundings as the darkness settled over him. He could hear Rosalie in her bedroom, rummaging around. She seemed jumpy and restless-not that he could blame her. He couldn't imagine what it was like to find your best friend murdered and then receive a death threat on top of that. Nothing will happen to her as long as I'm around, he thought determinedly.

In all honesty, he was looking forward to a good hunt. The animalistic side of him loved a good case, preferably one where he got to get in a good old fashioned fist-fight (those were usually frowned upon down at the precinct) and ended with his perpetrator in handcuffs.

He smirked to himself. He had always been a bit of a bad boy - ever since he was a kid he had nothing but energy, and that paired with his intelligence had quickly gotten him into trouble as a teen. It was all of his pent-up energy that he didn't know how to handle - he wasn't a bad kid. He got arrested several times as a minor for stupid things - breaking curfew, fighting, and trespassing. Nothing too serious. The fourth time he ended up in the backseat of a police car, the small town cop who usually caught him had given him a bewildered glance in the rearview mirror.

"Why don't you use some of that whip smart attitude and determination to be on the other side of those bars kid?"

It had made perfect sense to him. He never did anything bad or cruel when he broke the law - he was just a bored, small town kid. It did make perfect sense for him to try to opposite side of the law, so he did. As it turned out, he was a good cop. He enjoyed doing good deeds and stopping criminals even if his tactics were sometimes frowned upon by his superiors. He had a hot temper and a quick hand which usually got him in trouble. However, his track record of catching criminals was too high to be ignored. Oh yes, Jasper Whitlock, was definitely a bad boy.

He sighed, getting back to the warm, brown eyed, beauty, he's protecting, straining his ears to listen to what Rosalie was doing. After a few moments, he got up and silently made his way towards her bedroom. He just wanted to check on her.

The white door was cracked ever so slightly, and he relaxed a little when he heard her steady breathing from inside. Instantly he felt better. She needed sleep - he could tell. There had been dark circles under her gorgeous, warm, brown eyes and her pale face looked tired and stressed. Give the girl a good night's sleep and she'd be a complete knock-out,he thought as he crept back to the couch.

Unsuccessfully he tried to push the feelings he had for her down. It wasn't his place to get involved with someone like her.Especiallysomeone like her. Rosalie Hale was not for him. Girls like her usually rolled their eyes and turned the other way if a guy like him ever hit on her in a bar. No, she was certainly not his type and he was sure he wasn't hers.

Bet Daddy would have a real fit if she brought a guy like me home, he thought with a smirk. Resting his head behind his arms, he tried to catch a few minutes of sleep if his body would allow it. He had been riled up all day, him being close proximity of Rosalie, and being in her apartment guarding her wasn't doing much to relax him. He was just drifting off to sleep when he heard it.

Creak. Creak. Creak. Clank!

His eyes flew open. They adjusted quickly to the darkness around him, helping him find his gun. Sitting up, he carefully tucked it into the waist of his jeans.

Clank!

There it was again. It was quiet, but it was there. He knew he wasn't imagining this.

He stood, his senses immediately on high alert. The noise was coming from the balcony that ran all the entire length of the front of the apartment. All was quiet again. Jasper's ears strained, the hum of silence nearly driving him mad.

Focus, Whitlock, he chided himself. He walked quietly to the window, his eyes trying to see through the gauzy curtains. The balcony was empty.

Quickly, he moved down the hallway towards the bedroom and glanced inside. Rosalie was still in her bed, lying perfectly still. Good, he thought. He snuck to the guest room at the back of the apartment, peering out the window. Something moved.

I might only get once chance to nail this guy . . . don't fuck this up, he coached himself. His heart began to pound as he reached for his gun. There it was again. The window didn't allow him to get a good view, but there was definitely something out there on the fire escape. He was trying to get in.

Suddenly, he heard Rosalie stirring in her room. All thoughts of Demetri were sucked from his mind as his number one priority was immediately shifted to the blonde haired beauty that was now in danger.

Moving quickly, he rushed down the hall to her bedroom. She was peeking out, but her gaze was on the living room. Her breaths were low and quick, and he could practically sense her panic. He watched her exit her bedroom, heading towards the living room where he had been.

Silently, he moved behind her and put his hand over her mouth to keep her from screaming. Instinctively, his arm went around her waist and held her against his chest, ignoring the feelings stirring with himself. Her pale skin sizzled pleasantly against his, and he fought to remain focused. Fuck she feels good,he thought.

Rosalie jumped, her body trembling in his arms. She didn't realize it was him yet, he thought. Looking over her shoulder, he could make out her relieved sigh, pushing herself more into him, seeking protection, when she realized it was him. Slowly, he lowered his hand from her mouth and put his finger over his lips. "Shhhh," he urged. She nodded, pressing her pink lips together into a thin line. She understood.

He knew he had to make sure she was safe. There was a noise on the balcony now, and he knew that whoever it was had shifted their attention to the door off the living room.

"Go lock yourself in the guest room. If I yell run, go down the other side of the fire escape," he whispered. She nodded, and he could feel her heart beating rapidly against his arm. He released her slowly, missing her warmth, watching as she moved into the room in the back of the apartment. Their eyes met as she slowly closed the door. He didn't move forward until he heard the click of the lock being secured. "It's you and me now," he whispered, turning to the living room.

There was another noise from the balcony as he crept closer. The clouds shifted over the moon, allowing a stream of light to briefly illuminate the outline of the figure. Demetri.

He felt his adrenaline start to rush again. He tightened his grip on his gun, clenching his jaw. He was going to end this tonight.

Pressing himself against the wall, he watched as the figure picked the lock on the sliding glass door from the balcony. His stomach tightened as he fought to remain still. The only way he was going to get the better of Demetri was to catch him completely off guard. The door slid open.

Demetri stepped inside, looking around. Jasper took his chance. He leaped at him in the darkness, a loud grunt escaping from his chest as they went crashing through the glass covered table on their opposite side. He heard Demetri growl in surprise as they rolled to the floor. He could feel shards of glass digging themselves into his back as Demetri pinned him, and he braced himself for the blow.

Crack.

He winced as Demetri's fist came in contact with the side of his head, and he feigned hurt for a second to distract him.

Jasper's fist connected with his face, another loud pop echoing in the dark room. They both growled out in anger as they swung at each other, fighting for dominance on the living room floor. The drapes came crashing down around them as they fought and rolled, adding to the already chaotic scene.

Jasper got out of his grasp, rolling himself up onto his feet. Demetri mirrored his movements, and they circled each other. Jasper caught his menacing gaze in the faint light, giving him a slight chill.

This guy is absolutely psychotic,he thought to himself. He lunged again, unsuccessfully for a second time. He was about to reach for his gun when Demetri delivered a tough roundhouse kick to his jaw. Fuck, he thought.This guy can actually fight. Well….bring it, fucker.

He stretched out his neck, hearing it crack as Demetri positioned himself again. He dodged another blow, falling to the side slightly. He caught himself quickly, readying himself for another shot. And he got it.

"Argh!" Jasper's pained gasped. The small blade cut across Jasper's side, barely grazing him. Still, the small cut stung like a thousand bee stings and made him stagger backwards. He punched Demetri square in the nose, surely making him see double. With a crash, Demetri fell back into the wall and grunted in pain. Jasper was still reeling from his gash, but he knew he had to end this now. His hand flew to his gun that was still tucked in his jeans. He saw Demetri fall back again, clearly caught off guard.

Jasper watched as Demetri looked up, realizing he had a gun. With one quick movement, he tossed a glass picture frame at his head. Jasper ducked, feeling the item whiz past his head by a few centimeters. He looked up just in time to see Demetri dart onto the balcony and jump.

He rushed to the window to see him get up from the ground and stagger for a moment, only to disappear into the darkness.

"Fuck," he muttered. He had gotten away. That never happened. He gasped a few times, trying to get himself together a bit. His heart was still pounding in his chest, and he was still reeling from the scuffle.

A few ragged breaths later, he stood up straight and looked toward the back bedroom where Rosalie still was. He had to see her, Just to have her close. He collected himself some more before moving to the bedroom door and knocking. "Rosalie?"

The door flew open and he was taken off guard yet again as she flung herself at him. "Jasper!" She hugged him tightly against her body, and he could feel her heart pounding wildly through her thin pajama top. He could also feel the way her soft, round breasts were pressed against him, only a thin layer of fabric separating them . . . Stop it, he thought.

"Uh, you're welcome?" A cocky laugh slipped from his mouth as he lightly hugged her back. It felt wrong to hug a girl like Rosalie only minutes after a fight - he was still bloody!

"What happened?" she demanded, pulling away, without letting go of the waist of Jasper's jeans. He reached over, flipping on the hall light so that she could see.

She followed his gaze, her eyes widening when she saw her destroyed living room. Glass was everywhere along with broken furniture, spatters of blood, and various personal items were strewn everywhere. It was an utter disaster.

"We had a….slight scuffle," Jasper replied, running his hand through his hair, while the other rubbing up her arm to her shoulder leaving it there, he couldn't bring himself to stop touching her, just to make sure that she were there safe, with him.

He explained what happened, and confirmed that it was indeed Demetri that was out to get her that night. He watched her face grow with fear the more he talked, and he knew that he had to so something-anything-to keep her safe. And he would.

As he watched her brown eyes fill with tears of relief, he knew he had to formulate a plan. An idea came to him and he suddenly felt a little better. He knew how to keep her safe.

He wiped his stinging cut, just then noticing another small gash on his arm. Rosalie's face was clearly shocked. "He had a knife?", she looking pale. Jasper heard the slight tremble in her voice. He knew he had to play this down to keep the poor girl from coming unhinged. "Yeah…or something. Got me a couple times…but I'll live."

Jasper watched as she was hit with realization. Rosalie bit her trembling lip, her delicate hands squeezing the waist of his jeans tightl,y as her entire body began to shake. It felt horrible for her to realize the danger she was in, he squeezed his hand on her shoulder, trying to comfort her, but he didn't want to lie to her. Lying wouldn't do her any good in a situation like this.

"I'm…I'm glad you're okay," her soft voice cut through the silence. He nodded, giving her a light shrug. "Sure, sure. So uh…he's pretty determined. I think you need to get out of town. Soon."

Rosalie looked up at him "Really?" shocked, and he nodded again. "I mean that. You're not safe here. He made that pretty clear tonight. I think your best bet is to leave for a few days."

"Leave?" she asked softly, letting go of his waist, moving away from his grasp, making his hand slip off her shoulder.

"Just for a day or two. Week tops. Just let things settle down. Let Sam and his guys get on the case. They'll get everything sorted, just…it might help if you were gone."

"Come on," she replied softly, taking his hand. Sucking in a breath, he followed her to the bathroom. Flicking on the light, she opened a drawer searching for something. He reached for a white towel, "Care if I use this to clean-" he started to asked while picking it up off the rack. "-Not the white!" she gasped, interrupted him, taking it from him. Jasper's jaw dropped open, "Um . . . sorry,-", awkwardly. "-It's okay. Just…here, I was going to help you clean that up." she muttered, giving him a colored towel from the cabinet. "Okay," he replied, watching her.

Rosalie pulled out a first aid kit, carefully wiping the blood off his stomach and side. "You might need stitches," she said softly, looking up at him. He shrugged, taking the gauze from her and wiping more blood away. Examining the gash, he tried to ignore the singing pain as she wiped some antiseptic over it. "Nah. I'll watch it for a few days. Just needs a bandage. I'll be right as rain in the morning." She bandaged up the rest of his cuts and scrapes, commenting on his already visible scars. Jasper decided that he was probably the first person she had met besides Sam that he would consider blue collar. Rosalie was intelligent, yet very sheltered and that was clear.

"Do you get injured like this a lot?" she asked softly, while bandaging one of his cuts. Jasper shrugged, surveying the damage done to his face in the large mirror before him. "Oh yeah, all the time," he replied nonchalantly. "Part of the job. Wouldn't be exciting without getting a little banged up every now and then, would it?"

"Cocky much?," she muttered, opening another bandage. He took it from her, frowning a bit. "Mouthy much?," he chuckled. She yanked it back from his hand, bending over slightly to apply it to his side. "Just let me do it!" she snapped slightly. He looked down at her quizzically, slightly annoyed with her but still completely enamored. How did this sassy, uppity young girl make him so….worked up? "Are you always like this?" he asked slightly annoyed. "Like what?" she huffed while finishing bandaging another cut.

Looking up at her, "So….wound up.", he slightly huffed. Rosalie looked up, meeting his icy gaze, "When was the last time you had a killer after you?" she slightly snapped. He sighed, "I'm usually the one doing the chasing, actually.", feeling the stressful long day catching up with him. "Never mind," sounded like he felt, tossing the garbage into the bin. "I just hope that doesn't need stitches.", looking over at his wound.

Meeting her warm gaze, reaching for her hand giving her a reassured squeeze, "No, it'll be fine. Just relax-he's not coming back. No one would-be that stupid. You're at least safe for tonight.", hope his words will give her some comfort. Rosalie sighed tiredly, giving his hand a halfheartedly squeeze "Whatever you say," she replied, letting go of his hand, leaving the room.

"I know where we can go," he replied, following her out of the bathroom. She stopped, surveying her destroyed living room, "Do I have a choice?" she slightly grumbled.

"Do you want to live?" he slightly disgruntled, going over to the couch sitting down, going over everything that just happened and what needs to be done, making plans. Rosalie went over the where he is on the couch, "Well…yes," she replied stubbornly, sitting on the edge beside him. Meeting her dark warm gaze, "I'm not trying to put you out here Princess, but-", semi softly. Rosalie interrupted him, looking away from his icy gaze, "Just…." she held up her hand, silencing him.

Jasper leaned forward, closer to her, "What?" taking her pale small hand in his, rubbing soothing circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. Rosalie's eye's were on their hands, "I…I don't want to go, but . . . guess I need to," she mumbled, biting her lip again. He briefly wondered why she did that so often, but said nothing, but couldn't help find it peaceful hold on to her. Squeezing her hand, trying get her to meet he gaze, "Rosalie . . . we'll figure this out. I'll keep you safe - I promise." he said softly.

Rosalie looked away from their entwined hands, meeting his, crystal, bue eyes, with her deep, dark, brown eyes, a very relieved look on her pale face. "You will?" she whispered. He nodded curtly, turning to face her. "Of course. It's my job."

 **B** **ring out the stubborn-assy-ness of Jasper and play up the girly, uppity bitch in Rosalie. A chapter in Jasper's POV.**


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